An Unlikely Friendship
by Alexil
Summary: Hermione is in her final year at Hogwarts, but all is not perfect. Keeping a friendship hidden from her friends, the comined pressures of schoolwork and Head Girl duties, as well as family problems make for an interesting year. How does Hermione cope with


_Knock, knock._

Hermione Granger rolled over, trying to shut out the sound which had woken her up.

_Knock, knock._

It persisted, more forceful this time. Looking at the pillow that had somehow ended up on the floor during the night, she briefly debated throwing it at the door. Instead, it opened, and her mother waltzed into the room, throwing open the curtains.

"Isn't it just a lovely day, Hermione?" she sang out. "You've been cooped up in your room so much the last couple of weeks, I thought it would be a good idea to go out somewhere for the day. Your dad can't make it, but it gives us some time for some mother-daughter bonding."

Hermione groaned inwardly. Not _more _of this bonding rubbish. "I can't, mum. You know that I've got to do my schoolwork, and I need to read over my notes from the past few years at school."

Her mother pursed her lips. "Fine. I see how it is. Once again, your school is more important than your parents." And with that, she stalked out of the room, slamming the door.

Hermione flopped back down to lie on the bed. Her parents, especially her mother, couldn't seem to handle the fact that she was dedicated to her schoolwork. Arguments like this had been happening more and more lately, and didn't seem to be stopping.

Her train of thought was broken off by a tapping on the window. She walked over to let a snowy-white owl inside, who dropped two letters onto her bed, before flying back out the window. Shortly after, a black falcon arrived, perching itself on the windowsill. It sat there, waiting for her to take the letter it was holding in one of its claws.

She stood up and walked over to the window, taking the letter from the falcon that had been frequenting her house over the past couple of weeks. Picking up the two letters on the bed, she could instantly tell from the writing that they were from her two best friends, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter.

Ripping open the envelope of the first letter, a small smile appeared on her face as she recognized the scribble-like writing from Harry.

_Hey Hermione,_

_How's things been? I've been staying at The Burrow with Ron, but you probably already guessed that. Thank god Dumbledore finally said I didn't have to go to stay with the Dursleys!_

_We're having an awesome time – reckon there's any chance you'd be able to join us? I know you said before the holidays your parents wanted you to spend time with them, but try convincing them anyway. _

_Ron's mum reckons that the letters from Hogwarts will be coming any day now. You're a shoo-in for Head Girl; just don't let it go to your head. No pun intended, of course!_

_Anyway, I have to go. Mrs. Weasley wants us to de-gnome the garden, so we're off to do that now. See you!_

_Harry_

She smiled as she placed the letter on her desk. She smiled over his assumption that she'd be Head Girl. Everyone seemed to think that she'd be a perfect one. Opening the other letter, she saw that it was from Ron.

_Dear Hermione,_

_How are you? I'm having a great time at home with Harry – it seems just like old times. Too bad you can't be here though, we miss you._

_I can hardly believe we're going to be Seventh Years, can you? Harry probably said, but you're bound to be Head Girl. I can't think of anyone better suited to the job. _

_Mum wants me to tell you that we're going to Diagon Alley next Tuesday, and asked if you want to come with us. We'll come and pick you up of course, like we did last year._

_Well, I'm off. Can't wait to see you again!_

_Ron_

Hermione had to agree with Ron. It seemed as though it was only yesterday that they were young, naïve First Years. Now, they were entering their final year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Hopefully this year would be quieter than the last. The war was finally over, with Harry dealing the final blow to Voldemort. The Ministry was still trying to round up, capture, and punish all of his followers, which was proving a difficult task.

Harry's only regret was that his parents and his late Godfather, Sirius Black, were not alive to witness his triumph over Voldemort. However, Ron, Hermione, and the Wizarding Community as a whole were all proud of him, for achieving what no other wizard had been able to do previously.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she moved to the final letter. Recognising the author, she opened it as a grin came onto her face.

_Hey Hermione,_

_How's life going with the Muggles? One of these days, I'm going to show you life with a Pureblooded family. No, Weasley doesn't count. Stop glaring, Hermione, I'm only telling you the truth. Their house doesn't do us Purebloods justice. Any girl would love to live at our Manor!_

_Still working like a madwoman? I can't believe anyone would want to work on the holidays. They're meant for rest and relaxation from school, not doing more work! Maybe you should listen to your parents for once and take a break once in a while._

_Father's still trying to throw the Ministry off. I don't know who he's trying to fool, really. Everyone knows he was part of the Inner Circle. I'm just glad I got out while I had the chance._

_I've got to go now, but I'll see you again when school goes back._

_Draco_

She rolled her eyes. The boy was hopeless, really. Though, at the same time, he'd managed to pin her perfectly. It was an odd friendship the two had, one which had started sometime last year.

Nobody knew exactly why, but Draco Malfoy had decided one day that he was on the wrong side, and wanted to do something about it. Unsure of what to do, he approached Dumbledore, who offered him safety, as long as he provided the Order with whatever information he could.

His switching sides was kept secret from nearly everyone, however. Dumbledore brought Hermione into the plan, so that she would be able to help him out. Originally they were both repulsed by the idea of working together, but over the year they grew to become great friends.

While Draco was not either Ron or Harry, he was still one of her closest friends and as the months passed, they both found they were opening up to each other, sharing details about their lives, and joking around with each other.

Because Draco still had to act as though he was under the influence of Voldemort, his and Hermione's friendship was kept secret from everyone except for a select few members of the staff. They had come to a mutual decision that this was the easiest option, and planned to act as though they were still enemies while in the public eye.

Hermione shook her head. If anyone had told her a year ago that she'd be friends with Draco Malfoy now, she would have called them mental and sent them off to St. Mungos. It was amazing how things could change in the space of a few months.

Her pondering was once again broken off by the tapping of an owl on the window. Thinking that it must be a day for letters, she removed the letter which sported a scarlet Hogwarts seal on the envelope. Thankful to finally receive the letter which she had been waiting for, she ripped it open eagerly.

_Dear Ms. Granger,_

_Welcome back to your Seventh Year at Hogwarts. You are now one of the oldest students in the school, and the staff expect all in your level to behave appropriately._

_Upon reviewing your school record, you have been awarded the position of Head Girl. This is a great honour, one which is not to be taken lightly. We hope you will accept, as the members of staff here feel that you would be a fine Head Girl for your year._

_If you accept, your accompanying Head Boy will be Draco Malfoy, of Slytherin House._

_Attached to this letter is your booklist of books and supplies you will need for the following year. All students are expected to have adequate supplies._

_When you arrive for the new Hogwarts term, the Headmaster has requested that you visit him in your office to discuss your duties as a Head Girl._

_We look forward to seeing you on September 1st._

_Prof. McGonagall_

Hermione squealed with excitement. She wasn't normally one for such girlish actions, but she had been dreaming of this position ever since she had seen the shiny badge on the Head Girl in her first year. Though she had tried to downplay it to others, she would have been devastated if someone else – say, Pansy Parkinson, had been chosen for the position.

There wasn't any doubt in her mind that she would accept the position – it was something she'd spent six years working towards. She was tempted to race downstairs and tell her parents, screaming, "I made Head Girl!" at the top of her lungs, but she opted not to, correctly guessing her mother was still annoyed with her. Instead, she turned her attention to the large pile of notes that she was planning to review that day.

A couple of days later, and it was time for her to go to Diagon Alley. She'd owled Ron and Harry back, saying she'd love to go with them, and owled Draco at the same time, congratulating him on the Head Boy position. She'd decided no tot tell Ron and Harry of the position however, choosing instead to tell them in person.

She wandered down to the kitchen to grab some breakfast before the Weasleys picked her up. Entering the room, she saw that her mother had prepared breakfast for her already. She sat down and began eating quickly, knowing that it was almost time for her to go.

As she looked up from the table, she saw her mother sit down opposite her. Recognising the look in her eyes, Hermione mentally prepared herself for the long 'talk' that would be coming.

She was right. "Hermione, your father and I have spent some time discussing this. You see, we feel that –"

She was cut off as the doorbell rang. Shoving the last few bites of breakfast into her mouth, Hermione stood up. "I'm really sorry Mum, but I have to go. I don't want to keep the Weasleys waiting…"

Her mother gave her a look which told her that she was less than impressed. "Fine. Go and have fun with your friends. But this discussion is not over, mind you. When you get back, we _are _going to have this talk. It's been well overdue for some time now."

She rolled her eyes. Surely it wasn't that important, probably just some function they had to go to. "Whatever, mum. I'll talk to you when I get back."

She yanked open the door to reveal Harry and Ron standing on the doorstep. She squealed with delight and launched herself at Harry, pecking him on the cheek. "Harry!"

He stumbled under the sudden shock of her pouncing on him, but quickly recovered and gave her a quick hug. "Good to see you too, Hermione,"

Hermione laughed and released him. "Sorry, Harry. It's just really good to see you guys again." She turned to Ron to give him a hug as well, before pecking him on the cheek. After a few seconds, he still hadn't let go of her. "Uh, Ron? I'd really like to breathe, you know..."

He flushed and quickly let go of her. "Sorry, 'Mione. I just – I mean _we_ just missed you too."

Something sounded suspicious about that to her, though she shrugged it off as him just being glad to see her again. "That's alright. But what have I told you about calling me 'Mione?" She hit him playfully, ignoring the small voice in the back of her head that was reminding her Draco called her that.

He backed away from her hand, laughing. "Okay, okay! I won't do it again. You hit pretty hard for someone your size!" He was right. While Harry and Ron had both shot up over the years to tower above her, Hermione had practically stopped growing in Fifth Year. It didn't mean she wasn't still capable of being violent, though.

"There are a lot of things you don't know about me, Ron Weasley. Remember that next time you call me 'Mione," she said, joining in the laughter. "Anyway, we should probably be heading off. Where's everyone else?"

Harry spoke up, "They went ahead. Mr. Weasley arranged a Portkey for us – which is due to leave any second now, actually." He pulled an old watch out of his pocket, and held it out for Ron and Hermione to touch.

No sooner had they put their fingers on it did they feel the all too familiar tug, as they disappeared from sight.


End file.
